Forgotten
by Rachel Moretti
Summary: Abbie thinks about Ichabod Crane while she is in Purgatory and how she truly feels about him. A bunch of Sleep Hollow One shots! Of course I am a fan of Ichabbie so there will be some romance to come.
1. Chapter 1 Abbie's POV

**So this is kinda like a one shot SH fanfic. I wanted to get inside the thoughts of Abbie while she is in purgatory. The last episode of the season truly hurt me, however, I do not believe that Ichabod left Abbie there with the intentions that he would never return. Secretly I do believe that they are recognizing their deep feelings for each other. However, there is more to their story than their feelings. Please let me know what you think of this. I was hesitant writing for SH because I have such a great respect for the show and their characters. If you all like it, maybe I will write more longer ones :] Enjoy!**

It began like most of her feelings did. Like a hole had been dug with a deep needle into the pit of Abbie's stomach, and she keeps oozing sensations, loosing bits and pieces of herself in the process. There use to be a warm feeling but now there's some unknown ice that has attached itself, like a leech, to her warmth, sucking away her mundane life. She is an empty vessel now, surely filled with blood, a pulse, and everything that's supposed to be there. But, what use are these daily effects when she doesn't even feel alive? She's a walking zombie consumed with the recollections of what used to be. Stuck inside the one place she once found shelter. Now, this place brings her nightmares of the prophecies to come. Time, oh how she misses the idea of time. Her pendulum has slowly grazed to a halt and time is no more. There are only monotonous seconds which she wishes to remove every strand of coarse hair from her head. Maybe she could count the days, hours, minutes… that way by each fiber of her hair? What she wouldn't give to feel again, because without feeling, without the idea of being whole it's like she really is dead. Death would be easier. At least in death she wouldn't have to think…think about him.

Him, he, the man of the past, the man that was supposed to be her future, the one person she believed she could trust. She had been hurt so many times by people who claimed that they cared about her. However, she let down her walls. Her heart a secret garden with walls as high as the sky above. They had slowly toppled down leaving a small trail of dust in its stead. She had begun to trust him to believe that he would prove her wrong: that not every person was the same.

Ichabod Crane.

She never would say his first name out loud because he believed it to be improper. She would only reiterate his name inside her mind like a prayer. It was so pure to her, like a child's first breath, and yet now the name brought an aching writhing sensation where her heart used to be.

Just like all the others Ichabod Crane had abandoned her.

She had read once that a body would wander for so long, aimlessly looking for the one person that would give their life meaning. It was as if Ichabod was predestined for her, as if their meeting, their entwined destinies, were written in the stars. They were meant to find each other. The two witnesses of the apocalypse meant to save the world from damnation.

Now the world had a chance to be saved, while Abbie sat alone, slowly falling into her own damnation. But, this is the price to pay, isn't it? Not everyone could be happy. Someone had to pay the price for someone else's happiness. If Ichabod could have a chance, as small as it was, at happiness then she should feel some sense of comfort. Right?

At one point Abbie thought that her life would change for the better. That her story would be altered, that some greater being wasn't sitting down at a book, which was her life, and writing long pathetic lines that created her destiny. She had believed that Ichabod, rising from the cold dark earth, was her silver lining shining a bright light to her dark desolate world.

He had made her laugh, something that seemed so very foreign to her. To laugh, gut bursting laughter that had her topple over and clench her knees so that she wouldn't choke on happiness. That is what he had done for her. What she wouldn't give to laugh again, to feel that type of emotion.

He had taught her to feel once again even when the feelings were wrong. At first she had considered him a nuisance a parasite that followed her around causing her life to crumble in shambles. Yet, soon she realized he was the thread that sowed everything together. He was the pastor which brought back her faith, her living, her smile, her feelings. He was the breath which she took in everyday because he looked at her as if she was meant for something greater. He believed in her more than she could have ever believed in herself.

She loved that, having someone play her own personal cheerleader. He had been there for her when everyone else seemed to have abandoned her. He looked at her different, as if he were staring at the goddess Aphrodite herself. The way he smiled at her, with lips crinkling like lines drawn in sand at the sides of his mouth, made her want to melt like puddy in his arms. The way he looked at the world like a newborn child made everything that much more interesting. The way his eyes would dance around hers, combining like hands stitched together. He had only held her hands a small amount of times, but, his eyes held her eyes constantly. Of course he would never stare at her inappropriately and she thanked him for that. He would only linger on her momentarily because she knew he respected her more than anyone else ever had.

She replays the way he said her name

_Abbie…._

_Abbi…_

_Ab…_

Until she cannot hear it any longer inside her thoughts. His voice fades away with the memories she has of him. Her body hunches over in chaos because she knows something is changing. Her biggest fear is forgetting not only herself but everyone that is important to her. Yet, still, there is a far worse fear the fear of being forgotten. She is stuck here in Katrina's place and she cannot help but feel remorse. Yes, Ichabod had tried to stop her, and deep down she knows he would have given his own life in her stead. However, she cannot help but wonder:

_Will He Ever Return?_

He had told her to remember their bond, one which she thought would never be broken, but what if Katrina was the golden scissors that would clip their string away?

She wouldn't have ever admitted before. But, there is something about eternity that lets her truly think about her life. She promised herself that if she ever saw him again. She would tell him, she would tell him everything.

Life truly was too short. She understood that now. Hell was everlasting.

She had read that in French you don't really say, "I miss you." You say "tu me manques," which comes closer to "you are missing from me." As if that person is truly being separated from your soul. A part of Abbie was indeed missing and she couldn't help but wonder if Ichabod felt like a piece of him was missing as well.


	2. Chapter 2 Abbie's Symphony

**"****Find what you love and let it kill you" –Bukowski**

**Abbie's Symphony**

He thought about her often in the solitude of the darkness. At first, he often thought of the dark to be something tormenting, a useful trick to scare a being, prickling their nerves and causing their fears to blossom like a wild flower. Ichabod had dreaded the dark for he believed it to personify malevolence. In his time black had represented evil and its entire wrong doings.

Now, however, when he thought about the color black he thought about the silence inside his mind, and the thoughts that would only come during the darkness.

He thought about her for the first time way before he was trapped in his own hell. It was after he and she saw the sandman. He had almost lost her. He had been accustom to loosing something special because he had lost his wife Katrina. He had loved her very much and she **had **been his reason for living each and every day. Then he died, and was brought back to a new and very abnormal world. He had to learn everything all over again. He became a uneducated school boy relearning the proper tools to survive in this world. Abbie was his new breath, he soaked her into his lungs, and she filled him up with the sweetest realization.

That night after the sandman he merely dreamed of holding her hand. Such a thought should be considered duly improper, however, he didn't care. It was his own mind and he should be allowed to think of anything he wished. He had longed to simply touch her hand to make sure that she was in deed alive and that he too wasn't dreaming. It would have been easier that way, if all of this was a dream, then she wouldn't have gotten hurt.

He would find himself starring at her when she wasn't noticing. He liked looking at her while her long black eye lashes covered her caramel colored eyes. He liked when her hands danced through her hair as she looked down at some article of paper thirsting for understanding. She was a seed soaking up all the knowledge that she could possibly obtain continuously craving more. She was nothing like the women of his time. She was indeed quite different and in a way he liked that about her. She would always speak her mind and it constantly kept him on his toes. He liked taunting her getting small reactions from her like the rolling of her eyes, or the sarcastic responses that she would dish back at him.

He loved her everything.

He recalled her talking about an orchestra once and of course she had to have him listen to the music that brought her to composure. She placed an odd object inside another even weirder object and she told him, despite his inquisitive questioning, to be silent and let the music explain everything. He heard the sweet sounds of the instruments inside his ears and it caused every bit of thought to slowly dissolve away. She sat next to him, on the chair on the side of him, and placed her chin on her hand, her legs crossed, eyes glazed over as if a dream had taken her away. He watched her then, truly looking through her skin, bone, and gazing into the depths of her soul. For once she seemed unoccupied with the weight of her duty as a witness and for a moment Ichabod desperately wanted to get lost inside her mind with her.

As the orchestra plays he cannot help but find her to be like her own orchestra making his body, mind, and spirit react to her whimsical tune. Her breath as she inhales and exhales it's like a beautiful symphony slowly beginning to unfold. When he sees the slow pulse of her neck beating he can hear the violins of her heart slowly beginning to play. Oh and when she laughed, the most delightful sound to his ears, it makes him think of these trumpets that she tells him about. If he understood how to create his own symphony she would be his story he would want to tell.

He had felt quite horrible thinking about Abbie in such an intimate way. He was still married, and Abbie was a selcouth sensation. Katrina had been a lacuna, a mysterious rose filled with thorns, which drew him in pricking him in the process. Yet he had to admit something about their love made him contemplate everything. When he found out about all her secrets he couldn't help but wonder if everything she ever told him was a lie. He didn't want to lose Katrina and he did want to get her from purgatory. However, he mostly wanted to question her and remove this haunting image in his mind that she even lied about loving him.

When he had seen her again something was amiss. Ichabod felt it the moment he walked inside of purgatory with Abbie that something about himself altered. Maybe she was changing him, exorcising his demons, and creating him a new. A part of him hated to admit it, but, a part of him wasn't as thrilled to see Katrina as he hoped he would have been. He had prayed that once he saw his wife again all those old feelings would return, that his visions, his longing for Abbie would die away.

He was wrong.

Then when he had to leave her, watching her cry, broke him into thousands of pieces. He would have given himself up in her stead, but, of course she has always been so stubborn. He knows she would have never let him take her place. Oh, but how he would have rather suffered a thousand painful deaths than re watch those tears spill from those pools of caramel.

He couldn't help himself at that moment while she cried. He didn't care that his wife was standing only a couple inches away. He had to hold her to comfort her even if it was improper of him to do so. As he held her close, and she pressed her cheek against his chest, she whispered to him,

"I'm not asking for your permission, it's my turn Ichabod."

There was something breath-taking about the way she said his name. Just like that his universe had been altered by the mere utterance of her seeping his birth name from her lips. For so long she had simply called him Crane, but now their destinies were changing, and he knew there was a possibility that she knew that they may never see each other again. She was so selfless giving up herself for the good of mankind even when she realized he could easily forget her. It's as if he read her mind for he responded,

"Remember our bond, I'll come back for you." He swore.

She is what he believed in, in this new and furtive world where nothing made sense, he gave his beliefs, his optimisms and dreams of the future to her. He had seen her inside his future and he would be damned if that future faded away.

Of course he had spoken her name as well, even though he didn't want the first time to be such a disconsolate moment. However, he had to let her know that he was serious, that she was truly something special to him and something that special couldn't ever be forgotten. Abbie was kalon, and her splendor had only begun to take him over.

He had told her once, "I've lived on borrowed time; more than any man deserves. I've seen wonders beyond my wildest imaginings. And through these centuries, against the impossibility that we would find each other, we did. And I am most grateful for it."

There had to be some reason other than destruction, for why God had placed them together. He liked to believe that in an unadulterated world, in a diverse time, they could have enjoyed their company more without the world collapsing around them. He had prayed, wished, for different circumstances.

However, now he is stuck right back where he used to be. Buried alone, slowly fading away, underneath the ground. It gets quite worse, as he hears the chaos going on above him, the darkness of the walls of this box closing in. Life chuckles at him and the walls chime in with their own hysterical banter. They whisper everything they've known about his underlying feelings for Abbie, every flaw that he has held, but yet again maybe it's his fault because he holds so many. Maybe, this is his punishment, desolation, for feeling what he does while still being married.

Yet, deep down in his own darken hell, he thinks about her, and that beautiful symphony of her memory plays throughout his head, and suddenly things don't seem so quiet.

**Hey everyone. I truly had a tone of fun writing this, and it made the long wait for SH a lot less miserable. I know last week I wrote through abbie's thoughts, so I decided to kind of get lost with Ichabod. He's such a wonderful character to play with and I'd love to hear everyone's thoughts on this snippet of writing! I hope you all enjoy! remember to comment, I love feed-back. Also, if YOU have an idea of what you would like to read let me know!**


	3. Chapter 3 The Desert Flower Kartina's PO

_"If you love a flower, don't pick it up. Because if you_

_pick it up it dies and it ceases to be what you love."- Osho_

**Desert Flower**

Katrina had been described once as a desert flower, one that only bloomed very rarely. A suitor had told her that once before, and at the very premature age of fifteen, she merely smiled and batted her spider web of eye lashes. She didn't quite understand what he meant by that analogy but as she grew older she quite liked the idea of being a desert flower. As she grew into the woman that she is currently, like an estranged flower, she adapted yet soaked up all the knowledge that she possibly could. Unlike all the beautiful roses of debutants around her, she was the dissimilar one, embroidered with thorns. She had always given her parents problems due to her loose tongue. Katrina always felt as if the world was against her, why had God given her the gift to speak, and yet no one seemed to listen to her. Well, that is no one except Ichabod Crane.

Ichabod was the first man to ever comprehend her, or at least try, he was the one intrepid man that didn't mind that she was wild, with crazy ideas of the future. He didn't mind getting cut by her thorns. The way he looked at her made her want to rip inside his skin and see herself through his eyes. She had never completely understood why he loved her so. Of course, he was very leery of speaking his affections towards her because of his friendship with her supposed fiancé. Katrina didn't care, she never loved the man anyway, and she didn't even believe love existed.

To Katrina love made the person weak and took them off the root to their main purpose. That is what Ichabod did to her, he clipped her thorns away, and in return she was left with just a flower, no longer the wild desert rose that she once was.

She must admit that he had indeed proved her wrong about love. She did truthfully love him as much as she could. Their relationship was both terrifying and amazing and he made her feel things that she has never felt before. She did love him and she believes that a part of her always will.

She had kept secrets from him while she was trapped in purgatory but that was only to shelter him from the truth. Isn't that was love was supposed to do? To protect the person you loved from all the wickedness in the world? She was dead, lost in the memories of her evil doings. However, she constantly thought about her husband, her glorious Ichabod Crane. She wondered what types of ideas he learned from this new world? She hoped that at least he would be content. A part of her wanted to escape her own personal hell and try and venture this new world by his side. The wild side of her craved to learn new things, she dared to think these thoughts, because deep down she knew that purgatory was her retribution, one that she had to endure.

The first time Ichabod visited Katrina in purgatory was a bitter sweet moment. A part of her had been so very joyful to see him. He held her in those long tree branches of arms, and she felt as if she could have been lost inside them forever. Her crimson hair laced around his fingers as he placed his hand along the back of her head ushering her closer. She felt something for him, a great longing, one that could finally be let free. Yet, there was something unusual about him, maybe it was the way his heart beat freely? Maybe it was the distant sparkle that resumed in the sky color of his eyes. She had indeed noticed some type of difference, and that is what led her to believe that her beloved Ichabod Crane, like the time, was slowly beginning to change.

After he left she couldn't help but think of all the scenarios of what could have altered him. She knew his purpose as one of the witnesses of the apocalypse, however, she's seen terror inside his eyes before and this sparkle was farthest from it. It was as if her husband was starring at her through a tinted mirror, that mirror being his new world, his new recollections, and she was something merely of his past.

She didn't like the feeling of being forgotten.

She recalls when Ichabod and she were first courting each other. They were not chaperoned, which deemed highly indecent. However, she and he didn't seem to fit into the mold of their society. Ichabod had held her hand as they walked through the dark forest outside her house. He stopped her momentarily and placed her in front of him starring into her eyes. He smiled, and Katrina could feel her body react oddly to the mere gesture. He pointed up to the stars and told her that his love for her would be infinite like the stars above. She didn't know how to respond to him but she always knew that her husband would love her until the end.

Katrina had never doubted her husband's love for her until that one fateful day in purgatory. He had fulfilled his promise he had come back for her. Yet, as she saw him again it was like she was looking at a mirror image of the man that she used to love. That fog had once again covered his eyes as if he was hiding the most horrendous secret from her. His body language torn, he fidgeted like a loose leaf on a branch. Katrina looked at the new witness beside him, this Abigail Mills, and she soon realized that they bonded over something she couldn't possibly understand. Abbie and Ichabod shared destines and both of them had the comfort of having each other to share the burden with. Katrina could see the closeness between them, as if an invisible string tied them to each other. She saw this even though Ichabod could not. She could see him slowly being altered to the new man that this society was creating. She noticed the way his eyes would linger a little bit longer on Abbie, far longer than was deemed appropriate. She noticed the way Abbie stared at him as well, and as much as she wanted to hate Abbie for it, she knew that she couldn't. She was indeed dead, and she asked herself, truly asked, if she were in the shoes of Ichabod and found a real companion, someone who truly understood the depths of her soul, could she not feel something for that person as well?

Abbie was the new stars in the sky for Ichabod. That was certainly true as he hugged her when she explained that she would stay in Katrina's stead. She had never seen her husband so forlorn, so torn between what he wanted and what he needed. Katrina knows that Ichabod wanted her, she is his wife and it was the right thing to want. However, a part of her knew that he needed Abbie, she was a part of his soul, and without her he'd be missing a piece of himself.

Katrina stood there watching her husband, the man that was supposed to always be faithful to her, wrap his long arms, the way he had done to her, around this small vessel of a woman. Abbie planted her cheek against his chest, and Katrina knew that Abbie could feel the way his heart beat for her. When they both spoke each other's birth names Katrina knew that Ichabod would be gone forever from her.

Speaking something as intimate as their first names was Ichabod's way of telling Abbie** I love you,** in the only way he knew how.

As they left Abbie in the hell that was purgatory Katrina couldn't help but feel a sense of pleasure. She held her husband's hand as they left purgatory turning around to face the tear-stained face of Abbie Mills. Ichabod had promised to return for her, and she knows that he would venture into the underworld for her. As they left purgatory Katrina hoped Ichabod would leave his affections for Abigail Mills there with her.

She told herself that once they were back in this new place together everything would return to normal. Ichabod was a man and he had needs to feel some type of affection. Abbie had been her substitute, but Katrina would always be the teacher who returned. As they returned to this new world she stared at Ichabod smiling. He looked at her and to her surprise the fogginess inside his eyes was burning brighter than ever. He would never let her know, he would even suppress his own feelings from himself, but she knew….

She definitely could see that her husband, Ichabod Crane, had fallen in love with Abigail Mills.

**Okay can you say HARD! I think this is one of the hardest things I've ever had to write. I truly don't like Katrina as a character, however, I tried to put myself in her shoes to write her POV. I do believe that she could understand why Ichabod has certain feelings for Abbie, I mean they share destinies for God's sake. I tried to even give them a small back story because we only glimpse it in the show. As a woman I do believe that Katrina can tell that her husband is changing. Even if Ichabod cannot see it for himself. I did this because a couple of you all requested I write in her POV. I had never thought about doing this, because, I was so fearful to do this. I ended up tearing up at the end of this writing, because, i felt a little bad for Katrina. I still don't like her, however, I tried to understand her more. I am still a Ichabbie fan, and I will be forever and ever. However, I think Abbie and Ichabod's relationship is complicated. I also am a person who would never suggest cheating on your spouse, so I had to be very careful writing this. Anyways, I'm rambling, sorry. I hope everyone who requested this liked it! I tried really really hard! Please leave comments, I want to know what you think! Also, if you have any other suggestions LET ME KNOW I WILL PROLLY END UP WRITING THEM!**

**Thanks and enjoy!**


	4. Chapter 4 It was only

_It Is Both a Blessing and a Curse to Feel_

_Everything so Very Deeply.- D.J._

It was merely a smile. A small innate gesture showing his approval that he was indeed proud of her consummations. The small lines at the side of his lips broadly depicted, carved into the pastel beauty of his skin. His teeth barely showing, and Abbie noted that this action showed the minor elegance of him, never fully giving all of himself without perturbing about the ramifications. However, there was a smile, and she very much appreciated it. But, it was only merely a smile.

It was merely a glance. His eyes peering over her façade like a shipman lost at sea finally glancing at an oasis. His eyes dance around her midnight hair and how it falls ever so gently across her shoulder blades. His eyes swallow every inch of her body and how her form curves and indents like a prevailing mountain destined for greatness. For he believed she was destined for something more, and the stars themselves envied her divinity. Abbie liked the way his eyes gamboled over her as if he were the big moon glancing down at her open sea. She very much appreciated it. But, it was only merely a glance.

It was merely a brush. He fell into her one day and the side of his shoulder blade brushed against hers. It was like the colliding of two generations coalescing together. His shoulder tickled hers with the sweetest sensations that made her want to touch skins more. He apologized for his 'obtrusive action,' and she repeated the cycle of telling him not to fret. If only he knew how she wanted to feel his touch just a little bit more. Even if it were 'obtrusive of him' she didn't care she very much appreciated it. But, it was only merely a brush.

It was merely a chuckle. His hoarse laughter gnawed at her ears and it became contagious as her own soprano voice rang along with his. Their laughter chiming like bells in a church welcoming anyone who seeks refuge. Both of them topple over in their seats and it brings them a sense of amity knowing that deep down inside they always have each other, and apart of them realizes they always will. There laughter is like music inside the earth and it whispers a secret need that neither one of them can comprehend. He teases her by saying "Admit it, you appreciate me a little." She flutters her eye lashes and deflects his statement by saying, "Microscopically," but he knew that something was growing inside the both of them, some type of ardent hunger, that neither of them could control. Abbie liked his teasing she very much appreciated it. But, it was only merely a chuckle.

It was merely an embrace. It was after she had a nightmare, she awoke in a fit of screams. He had been there like a knight in shining armor, coming to her rescue even if it were he that she saw inside of her nightmares. It was him betraying her, leaving her like all the rest of them had. He assured her differently, holding her tightly in his arms, her body melts against his like the sun, burning deep into his subconscious. He knows he shouldn't hold her this intimately, but he brushes that thought away. She is what he needed at this moment. He needed her to be okay. As they both close their eyes memorizing each other perfectly in their minds Abbie very much appreciated it. But, it was only merely an embrace.

It was merely a touch. She had almost been gone forever, taken away by the demons which plagued their everyday thoughts. They had survived their bodies torn, tattered, and covered in murky crimson. He had searched for her thinking the most ill thoughts, his fears almost knocking him out cold onto the ground below him. When he had found her both their eyes combined as if they were one. Their heart beats suddenly in sync like the beating of a drum. He ran to her and he had to touch her to make sure she was indeed real. His lean, bony fingers slid across the planes of her cheek bones. Both of them breathing hoarsely, both covered in dirt and grime. He had almost lost the most important thing in the world to him, but, he would never say so. As he stared at her she had been so dirty, a normal person would have looked away, but not him, he saw her for what she was, he peered into her soul and found her innate splendor. Abbie liked the way he understood her and she very much appreciated it. But, it was only merely a touch.

It was only merely a saying. He simply told her that "I choose to forge my fate with you." Just those simple words made her apprehend that despite all the odds against them he belonged to her. He not only gave his willingness to her but his mind, thoughts, and aspirations as if she replaced all of that. She became his new fate. For so long her life had been a dark abyss of a night sky and finally it begun to create stars. He chooses to intertwine their destinies together, they no longer being two witnesses, but a witness as a whole. Abbie liked not ever being alone again and she very much appreciated it. But, it was only merely a saying.

It was only merely a kiss. It was a still silence as they gazed into each other's eyes. Both of them see their awaited reflections pooling in the iris of their vision. He chooses to kiss her, but only in the most delicate way possible, so that time could yield to him despite its continuous motion. No dictionary, thesaurus or notorious Siri on an I-Phone could begin to describe how her lungs filled with the sweetest air possible, and yet she would still be so breathless. She would wrap her arms around him pressing her body against his for support. For he will always be her support keeping her erect like the roots giving nourishment to a tree. She likes the feeling of suffocating slowly inside his arms and she very much appreciates it. Yes, it was only merely a kiss, but, to her it felt different this time. This time it created a sensation that simply could not be ignored.

**Okay I really hoped you all liked it! It kinda hit me, and I wanted it to kind of have a poem type feel. Idk, but, either way I had so much fun writing this! I think their relationship would begin slowly like this and finally end with the big BANG! I think Ichabod would initially start the kiss, I mean he is the man:p**

**Anyways, enjoy, please comment I love feedback and I take everything you all say into consideration! If you want a story with a specific idea let me know. I'll prolly end up writing it! **


	5. Chapter 5 Ignore

-_Ignoring your passion is slow suicide. Never ignore what your heart plumps for._

She felt like a cube of ice daily melting away into a particle of moisture that would be sucked into the cracks of the ground. Time was said to heal someone, and create this closure from occurrences that happened in the past. However, her screams and those scattered visions still haunts the blank space inside her mind. She wish she had equanimity, but, the only thing that rings inside her ears is her conscious spewing words like "you will always be alone."

She wasn't alone though. As long as she had Ichabod back, apart of her knew, he would never leave her again. He had kept his promise and came back to rescue her. They had won the apocalypse and everything began to creep back into normalcy. Well, as normal as things could possibly be. Abbie continued to do her daily routine of going to work, drinking more coffee than she could count, and of course occasionally spending time with Crane. Things were indeed different now, she could sense that even though he would never quite say it.

That is what made them unique, she could read Ichabod like an open manual, one, that only her eyes could decipher. He didn't fool her and even though she pressured him to forgive himself for abandoning her, she knows that apart of him will never fully forgive himself.

Katrina is free now as well, learning and discovering new things, just as Ichabod had done. Ichabod spends most of his time trying to play teacher explaining this foreign new world to her as Abbie had done to him. A part of her misses when it was just the two of them, conversing about their complex futures, sharing chinese food, laughing at each other's dissimilar backgrounds. Things were indeed different now. As much as Abbie hated to admit it she wanted things to go back to when the world was crumbling around them. That danger had brought her and Ichabod closer than ever. It had bonded them and glued their destinies together as a whole. As much pain as the being a witness caused her it had brought her a silver lining as well, it had brought her Crane.

Sometimes she would watch him as he spoke. Her head slowly cocked to the side as her hand would cup the side of her face. She would be so tired from work, the long days that seemed to drain her life force, but she would see him, and it was like this dull world suddenly had meaning again. Her would bring her back to life with his talk of mundane things like television, or microwaves, everything seemed to fascinate him. That mere love of life brought music to her world. He would laugh at his inability to understand why things were the way they were. The creases along his forehead would prickle his skin as he would raise an eyebrow in disbelief, and she would try and explain to him the reasoning behind everything. Their conversation would lead to them both toppled over in laughter.

Katrina didn't seem to understand them together, it was like they had their own private language, one that she wasn't meant to understand. Ichabod would tell her he loved her, shower her with affection, and tell her that this world would make sense to her one day. But, she could tell that something was altering about him, something her heart didn't want to accept.

One night seemed to change everything.

Abbie was laying in bed, sweat dripping from her brow, her hair curling at the sides as her perspiration trickled down her forehead to her chin. She was having a horrific nightmare about being left alone in purgatory, only this time Crane never returned for her. She was left scarred, abandoned and left to fight her demons alone. She awoke in terror, tears streaming down her face. She tried to grip reality but the terror of abandonment felt too raw and her emotions wouldn't resurface. She was tired of always being the strong one, that is the problem with always being the strong one, no one offers you a hand. Ichabod,who had stayed the night because it was too late to take him home, was sleeping on her couch. He heard her and tip toed slowly into her bedroom. She had cried in front of him once before. Before he left her, and it had nearly shred his heart into two. Something about seeing Abbie so heartbroken caused his entire body to writhe in pain. He felt her sorrow it was like they were connected lumped into one soul.

He is next to her in two strides and sits on the edge of her bed. He would usually await her permission to even touch her shoulder, but, something about seeing her so broken makes him want to mend her. He wants to bandage her internal wounds. He swallows her up into an embrace and she rests her head against his chest. She can hear the loud wild patters of his heart beat and it causes her to calm down. He rubs the top of her head soothing her, constantly mouthing,

"It will be alright, come now, I'm here. I'll always be here."

"Don't ever leave me again." She finds herself reiterating like a breathless hum.

"My life would be terribly incomplete without you, Miss. Mills." He whispers and she can catch a slight trace of a smile by the light tone of his vibrato. It causes her to slowly move her head backwards and he glides a finger under her eye wiping a fallen tear away. She sniffs,

"You must think I look ridiculous." She clears her voice trying to maintain a clear steady tone. She tries to mask her true hurt. Crane shakes his head, his pale blue eyes vibrantly shine, like a star, in the darkness of her room.

"The greatest act of courage, Miss Mills, is to sometimes show a sense of vulnerability. It is only human to manifest basic emotions." She knows that he would never think less of her. This mere realization causes her to smile and plunge into him wrapping her arms around his neck. Their bodies form together like a puzzle as she melts into him. This beautiful silence between them is what causes her to close her eyes and just breathe. She falls asleep in the safety of his embrace. He lays her down softly brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. Her silent breathing causes him to be thankful that she's alive, breathing, close to him. He vows to always protect because as much as he hated admitting it he loved her. Yet, sometimes love causes one to sacrifice their feelings so the other person won't get hurt. Crane expressing his true feelings for her would be a invitation for the both of them to dwell in eternal damnation. He knows that what he feels for her is immoral, and he would never want her to risk her soul, her purity for him. He cannot help himself, in the sanctuary of her dark room, he bends over and kisses the space between her eyes. She is asleep, she would never know, but he knew, he would always remember."Goodnight, my dearest Abbie."Is the last thing he says before leaving her room completely.

**Hey everyone! One, i apologize for not updating or writing a fanfic in awhile. This entire week has been hell, literally, I have been up to my eye balls in assignments and tests. It was midterm week, so I had basically no life at all. However, it's over and I will be on spring break! woot woot. Meaning, hopefully,I will have more time to write. Okay, I don't know what I was expecting with this fanfic. It was kinda all over the place. BUT I hope you all like. Please remember to comment and leave suggesstions. I love reading them. If you have an idea let me know! I'd love to write it. this makes my anticipation of sleepy hollow season two a little more bearable. Happy reading!**


	6. Chapter 6 Abbie's Date

Ichabod stayed in the corner, despite his rocking motion, swaying on both heels with his hands annoyingly placed over his two eyes. His impatience peeks it's highest point of urgency when he says

"Leftenant, I do not see the tenor in predisposing my vision. It is quite the unnatural feeling." Ichabod can hear Abbie do her mundane sigh, he is accustom to it now, in fact, he welcomes the musical notion of her voice as it flutters through the air like a whistle. Her voice is rushed as she responds,

"Take a chill pill crane, I'm almost done." If only his eyes were not shielded behind his massively large hands than Abbie could see the confusion overtaking his facade, like a castle about to be victoriously sieged.

"Leftenant, I neither know this pill that seems to make one 'chill' as you say, nor the resistance to remain blind. Now if you do not mind…"

"Okay open your eyes," she says cutting him off mid-sentence.

Ichabod, with much pleasure, removes his hands from his eyes. The sun from his cabin window pours into the small living room area illuminating certain objects with a ray of sunshine. It's as if the shade of time is slowly beginning to disappear. It has been two years since Abbie and Ichabod's encounter with Moloch, two years since both their lives, living and unliving had changed. They had fulfilled their destinies bringing back peace to the world, fighting a war which seemed to be never ending. Katrina had left taking her rightful place back in purgatory. She could finally have a sense of peace knowing that Moloch was defeated and understanding that Ichabod had a second chance. He had a second chance at happiness. Before she disappeared behind the door, glass spreading around the two of them like mirrors, reflecting the dustiest secrets inside their minds, she held him close. He embraced her, sad to see her depart, but happy that she too would find peace. Before she could leave him forever she whispered something to him, something he would never forget.

"Be happy my love," her voice was very fragile but it had a hint of urgency inside of it. "This is your chance to be happy again, and, I know Miss. Mills is what makes you happy." Before he could even respond, even defend himself, she kissed his cheek and walked back to her own hell. But, maybe this time hell would be bearable because there were no more secrets, no more darkness lurking behind every corner.

"Crane," Abbie pulls Ichabod out of reverie. His eyes immediately dart back to his small companion who is now standing with her hands firmly planted on her curvaceous hips. He immediately notices the vivid change in her attire. She is wearing a black, skin tight, and when he thinks skin, he thinks is there no room for her to breathe at all, type of skin tight. It cause him to turn around and wince, this attire is dangerously scandalous and Ichabod feels quite 'intrusive' just staring at her. The dress is also quite short, only coming down towards her knees, and Ichabod cannot comprehend why anyone would prance around in something so decidedly improper, dare he say, he finds it more horrendous than the devil's pants, the skinny jeans.

"Leftenant, I fear that your presumptuous attire has rendered me speechless." Abbie chuckles as she walks over towards the small mirror hanging on the wall. She grabs her black and gold earrings placing them on her ears.

"Good, if I knew that a fitted dress would 'render you speechless', as you put it I would've worn it quite awhile ago." She teases as she places the last earring on. She walks around looking for her leather jacket. She scans the room trying to find the exact crevice that it is hiding under. "Now, where did I put that jacket?" She says talking to herself.

"You are not expecting to leave the vicinity of this cabin are you leftenant?" There is some fret inside of Ichabod's voice. He finally turns around to see her reaction, but is very conscious to keep his eyes firmly planted on her face.

Oh that face, he finds it quite lovely, her lips fully plump and rounded as she becomes nerved with his constant banter. Her cheeks rouged, he's guessing it's because of this make-up that she speaks of. He notices her hair is quite different as well, it's fully crimped, half of it pulled back showing the depth and beauty of her eyes. He could just stare at those rounded pools of brown all day and get lost. If Abbie were the sea Ichabod wouldn't mind getting lost at sea for eternity.

"Do expect me to just sit around in the house like this? Ha, you've got jokes." Abby chokes out as she ducks behind a couch looking under it for her jacket.

"I have been described in my era, as being quite the humorous type,"

"More like the clown," Abbie says with a chuckle.

She turns around and finally notices her jacket hanging on a chair inside the kitchen. "Ah, there it is!" She runs towards it and grabs the jacket pulling it over her shoulders. Ichabod is glad she covers herself more and only hopes that there is more coverage to continue.

"Leftenant, I implore you to consider the proposition of possibly adding more garments to your rather lewd attire." Abbie rolls her eyes.

"Crane, this is the new century, in fact, I am dressed rather classy in terms of what other people wear today." Ichabod cringes at the notion.

"I do not wish to see how unclassy a item of garment could become." Abbie walks over towards her black stiletto heels and begins to put them on each one of her feet. She leans half of her body against the side of the wall trying to obtain some support.

"If you want to fit in Crane, you gotta get use to this." Ichabod mumbles something under his breathe but Abbie is too strained, trying to put her dang heels on, to hear his comment. After she gains about three inches, from the heels, she throws both of her arms out to her sides with a sigh.

"Okay, this is as good as it's going to get. How do I look." Before he can answer she points at him, "and I don't want you to go on a long tangent about how scandalous I look. I am already quite nervous and I do not need you bringing on the heat." Ichabod feels bad for scolding Abbie, the last thing he wanted to do was upset her, but she had to understand how difficult this was for him. Coming from a time where showing your shins were improper this dress caused his cheeks to flash a bright crimson.

"You do look beautiful, Miss. Mills." His voice is soft and it causes Abbie to smile. He likes that, that her smile appears like a radiant ray of sunshine.

"Really," she questions placing her hand behind her hair making sure her curls are still in tact.

"Of course, as always. You will have gentlemen swoon by the mere sight of you….Or faint because of the microscopic length of your fabric." She comes over to him and nudges his shoulder.

"You should've quit while you were ahead."

He is rendered speechless for once. He wants to hold her, to beg her not to leave, then again who is he to keep her bound? Abbie is a free bird soaring through the sky and he would only lock her in a cage. After their encounter they spent large amounts of time together. In fact, they became inseparable. In all those times Ichabod felt as if he would never lose Abbie because he knew she would always be there. Now he sees her on this Friday night, dressed up, looking so very beautiful, and she's going out to be with someone else. Someone, who he has decided, doesn't deserve her.

She had tried the whole dating thing with Luke and it didn't seem to work out in the first place. Ichabod knows he would be treading on shallow waters if he asked her not to go. He couldn't just pour out his feelings to her like a faucet. It wouldn't be fair to put her in this type of predicament. Abbie is a strong, independent woman, and he knows she has the capability to choose what she wants.

"Miss. Mills," Crane interjects and Abbie turns her awareness to him before she leaves through the front door.

"Hurry it up Crane, I can't last in these heels all night. Before you know it I will be falling and it won't be pretty."

"Well, that is highly posterous." Abbie nods her head,

"No it's quite true, because, It's happen quite a number of times before. Granted, I was a little drunk-"

"No, Miss. Mills," Ichabod cuts her off, "the fact that you should fall is highly unlikely, because, I would never let that occur. I'll always be here to catch you." His comment is quite forward, and Abbie doesn't exactly know how to respond. Ichabod of course has always been quite charming, and incredibly handsome. He would do things no man has ever done to her before. He would complement her, make her smile, make her feel not so alone. However, she has always seen him as forbidden for the giant fact that he was still indeed married. Ichabod wasn't like the men of her time, he believed in the vow of marriage, in all that fairy tale nonsense. She wished she could believe in it too.

As corny as one might think his statement was she found it to be incredibly sweet and comforting. She places her hand on his shoulder,

"I know, so far you haven't let me down yet." Ichabod smiles, she wants to melt into him. Those pale blue eyes digs into the depths of hers and she wants to jump onto him and literally rip his clothes off. She doesn't understand how she didn't want to do this before?

"We do have quite the long amount of time to prove this statement accurate as well."

"Who needs proof," Abbie teases.

"Miss. Mills, this coming from the young woman who thought everything dispersing from my mouth was utter tomfoolery. I am once again rendered speechless."

"Twice in one night, looks like I'm picking the movie for our next chinese-take out movie night,"

"I look forward to the night, Miss. Mills. I also hope that you have a lovely evening." Abbie removes her hand, even though she wants to stay glued to him. A part of her doesn't even want to leave the cabin. She wants to spend the entire night with him, watching movies, eating Chinese (Crane has grown to love it) and just good old fashioned laughing. She could talk to Crane about anything and it's like he understood her, truly her, the her she thought was gone a long time ago. She forces herself to leave the cabin. As she gets outside she turns to face him and smiles.

"I won't be out too long. I'll call you when I make it home?" Ichabod nods his head.

"I will be awaiting that call, Miss. Mills."

Luke insisted on going to a bar, getting some dinner, and doing some dancing. Abbie found the bar scene a bit out of their age zone. In fact, she hadn't been to a bar, or club, since she was the youthful age of 21.

As she walks inside she notices the wondering, probing, eyes of all the gentlemen inside the bar. She for a moment, wishes she would've taken Crane's advice and changed. She notices Luke from across the crowd of people and walks through the mountain of people to reach him. She curses the fact that her feet already hurt from the heels.

"Luke," she calls out and he notices her embracing her into a hug.

"Abbie," he says as they back out of their embrace. His eyes swallow her whole and she notices he stays a little too long on her chest area, Ichabod would never do something that bodacious. "You look sexy." Abbie smiles taking a seat on the stool next to his at the bar.

"Well, what can I say I clean up well." She turns to the bartender who is a small blond woman. "Could I have sex on the beach," The bartender nods. She turns towards Luke who has a surprisingly large grin on his face. "What? I'm feeling celebratory tonight." She lies, she's trying to ease the loud voice in her head that is comparing every gentlemen inside this room to her out of date companion.

"No, I like this. It reminds me of the you when we first started dating. Remember how much fun we had." Luke says placing his hand on her thigh, a dangerous sparkle inside his eye. Abbie changes the subject,

"My drink is here." She switches her left leg from crossing her right and it causes Luke's hand to drop from her. She immediately sips the drink trying to not become completely annoyed.

She promised herself she would try and be normal. She had to try. Besides, Ichabod could still have feelings for his old wife still. Who was she to break the sacred bond of an old marriage?

"So what have you been up to lately?" Luke asks pulling her back to the reality of the situation. Abbie removes the straw from her mouth.

"You know work. It seems to be taking up a large amount of my time."

"Well, that and that crazy fictional character that hangs around you all the time. Why hasn't he at least changed his wardrobe of clothing yet?"

"Crane is different, but, I really like having him around." Luke downs a swig of his drink. She can tell this is not his first.

"You're too good for him. Plus, he looks kind of stupid walking around like a lost puppy."

"I think someone's jealous." Abbie coos as she drinks more of her sweet drink.

"Hell yeah I'm jealous. This guy gets to spend all this time with you. Probably doesn't leave your side for one minute, I'm trying to just get a second." Abbie chuckles and Luke joins her. "I miss what we had. I miss that smile," he says pointing to her as the creases on her laugh lines form as she smirks. "You've always had such a beautiful smile, and a banging body, remember that night after the police party?" Abbie of course remembers it. In fact, it's the first night she and Luke were intimate.

"Course, I remember."

"How about we do that again? You know for old times sake,"

"Ha," Abbie says finishing her drink. The tingle of it's droggy magic is starting to kick in."I don't think so."

"How about you dance with me then?" Abbie's eyebrows cringe together in confusion.

"Excuse me, no, that's not happening." Luke gets up from his stool and grabs her hand. Abbie is shaking her head in disagreement.

"No, Luke, I don't want too."

"Oh come on Abbie, where's your sense of fun? Or have you lost that too?"

"I'm still fun," she defends.

"Prove it."

Abbie despite her better judgement, lets Luke lead her to the small dance floor, where a bunch of drunk college students prance around the floor. Luke comes dangerously close to her. He places his hand on the small of her back and as they continue to dance, his eyes digging into her eyes, he lowers his hands lower and lower traveling to the uncharted territory of her backside. He leans in closer and thrusts his lips onto hers. He's always been so rushed, pushing himself on her, at one time she liked it. She adored his impatience as if he needed to have her, but, now a part of her craves the anticipation of waiting for tenderness and what it brings. She breaks away from his rough lips.

"I can't do this," she whispers and she's not sure if it's meant for Luke to hear or if she needs to remind herself of what she's doing.

"What?" Luke asks.

"I can't, I don't want to do this."

"It's that fuckin 1700's asshole isn't it."

"For your information he's from the 1800s, and whether it's him or not it's not your business." She begins to walk away but Luke grabs her arm pulling her close to him.

"He's a freak Abbie, you want to be with a freak. He's not even a man, he chases behind you like a lost fuckin dog!"

"He's more man than you'll ever be." She tries to move away but his grip on her is tight. "Now, you need to let me go. Don't force me to take action." She threatens and he can read in her fierce stare that she's serious. Luke lets her go,

"Fine, go run to your puppy dog." Abbie rolls her eyes in disgust, why she ever liked him she would never understand.

Ichabod waits by his cell phone, with a book perched in his hand. He's been reading, by candlelight, habit of course, and anxiously awaits Abbie's call. He wants to know that she made it home safely. He tries not to dwell on the fact that she is with someone else, someone who could be holding her as intimately as he wanted to.

He hears a knock on his door and it causes his eyes to immediately dart towards the front door. He isn't expecting company especially not at these unseen hours of the places the book down on the kitchen table as he trudges towards the door. With hesitation he opens the door and is relieved, yet quite surprised, to find Abbie standing in the doorway. She walks past him kicking off her heels in the process.

"Took you long enough to open up."

"Miss. Mills?" He questions,

"No It's the boogieman," She goes into his cupboard grabs a glass, one of the ones she gave him, and fills it up with sink water sucking it down.

"Pardon my astonishment, but, I believed you would still be on your outing. I wasn't expecting you back tonight."

"Sorry," she says placing the glass down crossing her arms. "It's just…" Ichabod can see the extreme annoyance on her face, she's upset, and it causes him great displeasure. He walks closer to her.

"You're upset, what's troubling you? What occurred at your outing?"

Abbie doesn't want to tell him that she mentioned him more than she mentioned anything else. She doesn't want to say that her constant need for him to be around is what scared her into not trying to be anything with Luke. The fact of the matter is that she needs him around her as if one needs air. She loves the way he speaks, the way he's staring at her at this moment, as if she's the most important person in the world to him. How she wants to get closer to him, to touch the side of his face, to feel his lips on hers. She imagines that his would be extremely gentle, not rough and persistent like Lukes. She could never tell him this.

"How were dances back in your time?" Ichabod looks taken-a-back by her comment.

"Pardon?" She bites her lower lip and shrugs,

"How were dances back in your time? I'm curious. I want to know how you danced with someone back in your day." Ichabod's eyelash raises in skepticism but Abbie finds it refreshing she missed his weird facial expressions and his big words that sometimes she didn't even understand what they meant.

"Well, they were highly awaited. Every proper gentlemen and lady would highly anticipate socializing with each other at these events."

"And the dancing?"

"There were numerous dances practiced there-"

"Did they look like this?" Abbie asks as she bridges the gap between them. She places both her arms on Ichabod's shoulders and he tences at the movement. "Don't worry Crane, I'm not going to bite," He settles down and she stands on her tip-toes so that she may wrap her arms around his neck. He is quiet for quite sometime and she cannot help but laugh at his embarrassment. "I believe you hands go around my waist?"

"Duly noted." He chokes out as he places his hands at the small of her back.

They merely sway back and forth. She likes it, how simple this is. How he doesn't dare move his hands lower like Luke. How is eyes stay firmly planted against her eyes as if they're connected, joined together. Maybe it's the alcohol but she feels as if she has the courage to say or do anything. "What brought about this inquisitive manner Miss. Mills?" She shrugs and smiles shyly.

"I wanted to know how you'd dance with me."

"And why is that?"

"Because, I knew it'd be different than how any other person has danced with me."

"Is that so,"

"Very so,"

"Well, madam, in case you haven't realized I am from quite a different time." He bends her back and it catches her off guard. She laughs as he places her back upwards. She edges even closer and places her head on his chest. Ichabod becomes quite torn on what to do. On the one hand he wants to hold her close, cherish her like a proper gentlemen should, but he cannot help but feel as if he's taking advantage of her vulnerability.

"Why couldn't there be more like you?" Abbie whispers. Ichabod is strained on what to say the only thing he could make out is,

"The same reason why there's only one of you." She removes her head and stares at him oddly,

"why is there only one of me?"

"Because, you're extremely special, there can only be one of you. You're one of the bravest person I've ever met. In fact, sometimes I forget how incredibly fragile and small you are." She smiles noting how she must stand on her tip-toes to even come close to his shoulders. He's so massive like a large mountain.

"I'm sometimes glad I went through everything that I did."

"and why is that Miss. Mills?" She looks down at the ground, quite embarrassed about what she's about to say.

"Because, it brought me to you." Ichabod touches her chin and moves it so that she can stare at him. His touch is so gently, so meaningful.

"I am elated that our destinies were intertwined." Abbie leans in closer, trying to erase the gap that is binding their lips away from each other. She cannot help herself she wants to kiss him, no, she needs to kiss him. She's waited too long and she doesn't care what the consequence will be.

She's only inches away so close...

"Miss. Mills…" Ichabod warns and she knows that he's not sure of what will occur. Neither is she, but she likes playing with the unknown.

"Ichabod," she mutters. Using his first name is the most intimate thing she could have ever done. She had only done it once before and that time hadn't been so pleasant.

"Are you sure this is what you want," he asks her. She realizes no one has ever cared to ask her that before. She nods her head.

"More than anything," and before she can finish her sentence he places his lips against hers. It's as if she's lost gravity and he's the only thing keeping her bound to earth. It's as if all the oxygen inside her lungs is leaving her and he's replacing her air through his breath. The kiss is very delicate and as they stop and stare at each other there eyes say so much more.

"You do not understand how long I've been waiting to do that." He whispers.

"Let's never wait like that again," she murmurs against his lips.

They dive back into each other's reckless kissing. She knits her fingers around his neck and he cradles her slowly lifting her off the ground so she can properly be firmly planted against his mouth. She glides her tongue against his lips and he opens his mouth fully to allow her access. They're both breathing heavily, losing all sense of time.

"Will you be with me?" She asks him only momentarily breaking away from his lips.

"Abbie," he knows what she means by her statement. He is fully aware that this era is quite different in courtship and maybe he would be willing to bend his rules, just, not quite tonight. If he did fully combine with her,the only way two people could, it would be special. He would make it the most memorable night of her life. "Patience, my treasure," he murmurs as he glides his lips against hers. Abbie groans,

"don't make me wait as long as you waited to kiss me." He places her down on the ground and she begins to take of his jacket. He's not thinking straight, she's got a dangerous fire burning inside her eyes, and he desperately wants to get burned. However, she's so precious to him, and she's worth waiting every second. She throws his jacket to the floor and before she can remove any more of his clothing he grabs both her hands holding them gently in his.

"I care about you, more than anything else in this world, patience is what will make this, all of this, us, worth waiting for."

"I want to be with you,"

"I want you to be mine," he says placing his hand on the side of her face."I want to love you show you how special you are to me." She bites her lower, and it's making his decision that much harder. "Abbie, you must know that I am doing this because I care about you." She nods.

"Is kissing off limits then?" Ichabod smiles leaning in closer,

"Of course not." They melt into each other sharing breaths. She breaks the kiss,

"Is sleeping together off limits?" She asks breathlessly kissing the crook in his neck. His breathing catches.

"You will not let me retire for the evening if I say no will you?"

"Not a chance," she teases kissing his lips again. "I'm staying the night." Ichabod smiles

"I believe that is once change, I can get quite used to."

**Okay everyone this was seriously the hardest thing ever to write! I love them together, and I am constantly criticising my writing because I want to write them perfectly! I literally changed, and re-changed this story a hundred times. I didn't get a response from the last chapter, so I don't know if you guys liked it or not. Therefore, I tried to do this one out for size. It's longer, and I really tried to do something different with the Ichabbie fanfics. I don't think I've seen a Abbie Luke scene yet, so I'm trying it out. This takes places years after and Katrina is long gone. Like I said before, I don't condone adultery. Also, PLEASE comment. I take people's silence as they don't really like it. Lemme know what you think, I'm quite nervous about this….**

**also leave suggestions! **


	7. Chapter 7 5 o'clock in morning

It was 5'oclock in the morning and the sun slowly begins to raise casting hues of pastel pouring into the darkened room. The room is eerily silent, nothing heard but the slight breathing coming from the two bodies conjoined, pieced together like the stitches inside of a quilt. Their bodies coalesced and they allocate each other's breaths, their heartbeats thumping together as if their blood runs only through one vessel, as if they share only one beating heart.

People had always asked Abbie, expecting a precise answer,

"Where are you going?"

As if life, living, was that easy to define. They expected her to always know the answers to everything. She didn't. Life was a mystery to her, an opened book written in words that was foreign to her mind. She wasn't meant to know that she would be the next witness of the apocalypse, she was never meant to know everything because life isn't quite that simple. Yet, they still asked her and not fully knowing the answer she would always smile and say,

"I'm going in the right direction."

As if gravity somehow was pulling her into the place that she was meant to be. She didn't believe in predestines, she didn't believe in fairy tale endings, because stuff like that is only written in books. They were simply words, little ink spots printed on a flat piece of colorless paper. She didn't believe in any of that. Yet, some part of her finds it ironic that despite all the odds against them, she would end up in Sleepy Hollow, not accepting another position, and finding the one person, Ichabod Crane, whose body fits perfectly alongside hers at this very second.

At this very moment, at 5'o clock in the morning, she feels whole. She feels like for the first time in her life she is living, doing something other than dwelling in a mundane existence. Living is more than just breathing, but it's the feelings that a person experiences. Before him, she was without feelings, going about normal living, as if the tide slowly carried her and she just floated. Ichabod is indeed her water, as she is dunked under him she becomes new. Exorcised from her demons, because she realizes she never had to face them alone. He purifies her and she knows that those memories will never fully go away, but, it doesn't necessarily rain forever. With him she experiences a sense of equanimity. She is optimistic and always hopes for the best, even though the best, like a unexpected love letter, rarely arrives, and even when it does it can be lost so easily.

This 5' o'clock in the morning is different, because, for once she isn't waking up alone. She had waited so long to experience the feeling of being wanted, not realizing, that she had been waiting all along for him. She had read once:

_The two most powerful warriors are patience and time_

This statement had never been truer. Abbie spent her life alone, abandoned by everyone, time had brought her new experiences, false love, but it did at the end bring her him. Even then, after waiting so long for him, she had to have the patience to be with him because he was married. Even though his wife was dead his heart still held her presence. It wasn't until Katrina released him that Ichabod let himself fall into the abyss that is Abbie Mills.

Ichabod moves and it stirs her thoughts. She has been lying on her side, his one arm wrapped around her stomach drawing her close. Her back is facing him and as he moves, slowly, she realizes how lucky she truly is. To simply have him breathing, lying beside her, could have so easily been taken away. She turns around facing him. His eyes are sown shut, mouth slightly parted, she can hear his easy breaths. He's so beautiful, so natural, as he sleeps. His dream has taken him captive and she can only wonder what thoughts, what images, have stolen him away from her.

A slight strand of his dark hair falls along the side of his face and she cannot help it, she moves her hand towards his silken hair, and pushes it from his face. Her hand then travels towards his closed eye lids and she gently rubs the delicate skin there. She glides down towards his nose and finally his slightly parted lips. She had only kissed those lips, for the first time, the day before, and apart of her is still breathless from it. How she longs to kiss them again, she longed for much more than just kissing, but, she has to respect Ichabod's wishes. She has to remember that he is a man out of time, things were different back then, and she has fallen in love with him because of those differences.

Wow the L word, she never thought she would say that. But, yes, despite her better judgment, she has fallen, no not falling; because he had told her he'd never let her fall. But she is, and in constantly being, in l..o..v..e.. with Ichabod Crane.

"Can't sleep?" She is surprised to hear his raspy voice murmur towards her, because, she thought he was still sleeping. She looks closer and she can see those azure eyes, still filled with slumber, starring back at her. She's embarrassed, in any other situation, she would have never let him see her vulnerable.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," she apologizes moving her hands back to her side.

"It's quite alright," he pulls her closer and she cannot help but smile. "I truthfully adore your embrace." She still fits perfectly connected to him, their fronts are sown together. She buries her face in the crook of his neck. She breathes in his scent, one that is so perfect for him, an earthy smell as if he were Adam born straight from the ground beneath them.

"Thank you for letting me stay the night with you." She whispers with an aspirated sigh. Did she truly deserve this type of peace, this type of happiness? Ichabod rubs her hair and his fingers are as gentle as a feather.

"It is of my greatest pleasure to share this rather hefty bed with you. It is rather large for just one."

"Should've invited me a long time ago," she teases.

"Yes, well that would've been rather selfish of me, don't you concur?" He places his feather like hand across the planes of her cheek bone then glides towards the back of her hair, ushering her closer. Her lips part as she moves backwards starring into those stars of eyes.

"We're allowed to do some selfish acts, every once in awhile, we're only human Ichabod, no one's perfect."

"tsk tsk," he reprimands softly. "I must interject that I have found falseness in that statement." Before she can say anything he continues, "I have found that you, Miss Mills, are indeed one of unadulterated perfection." She stares at him, breathless, wordless, because words couldn't describe her emotions. Sometimes, someone says something really small and it just fits right into the empty space of the heart.

The sun fully rises and the glow from its bright rays flutter into the darkened room. It illuminates their bodies with a heavenly glow.

Ichabod leans in closer touching her parted lips with his. "This shall have to be my selfish act of the day," She smiles as they begin to kiss each other. Her breath leaving her once more as his hand trails down her arm towards the curve of her stomach and hips. He grabs her leg placing it over his so that they can be even closer. She moves her hands towards his abdomen and travels up his muscular physique towards his chest. She stops momentarily, as she hears his rapid thumping of his heart, pleased knowing that this is for her.

She slightly sits up starring down at him and positions herself on top of him. Her dark hair falling over the sides of her shoulders as she bends down kissing him more. His hands a fidgety mess, all over her body like she is an uncharted map, one, he longs to discover. She presses kisses across his jaw line, and an escaped moan rumbles from his lips. She trails her affection towards his neck and her fingers graze the hard lean muscle of his stomach as she slowly tries to lift his shirt up.

"Abbie…" he manages to make out but it's quite breathless. She loves the way he says her first name, as if she's so precious, as if she truly is his prized treasure. She takes this as her ticket to continue, it's his praise to her, because the only thing that can escape from his lips is her name. She trails down to his broadened collarbone and kisses that as well. He moans again, "remember," he clears his throat, "remember our conversation only last night, we discussed this…" Abbie kisses his earlobe,

"This is my selfish act for the day," she murmurs against his ear. He sighs and she comes back towards his lips kissing him again. He engages but stops after a moment. She looks at him with confusion, "please," she asks and she knows that if she keeps pressuring him, keeps starring at him with those doe-like eyes, he'll have to cave. He grabs her waist and lifts her up, afterwards placing her on the bed, and slowly, gently, getting on top of her. He grabs both of her hands and holds them down on the bed. "Kinky are we?" She teases with a smile.

"Abbie, I promise it will happen. Just, not exactly at this very moment."

"Haven't you heard? I'm quite impatient."

"You mean more to me than just intercourse. You're so special to me. You're naked body should only belong to the one who falls in love with your naked soul. Do this, for me," She rolls her eyes and lets out a slight sigh of annoyance.

"Fine,"

"Can I trust you enough to remove my grip on you?"

"Can you trust yourself?"

"Abbie—"

"Fine," she smirks. "I'll be a good girl, for now, that is." He nods and slowly removes his hands. She brings her hands to his hair pushing it back so that she can memorize every little perfection about his face. She pouts, her lips plump and ripe like a juicy fruit, "you make this so difficult." He smirks,

"Haven't you heard, my treasure, that the hardest things are most likely worth fighting for?" She rubs her lips against his.

"Well, I can't sleep now, how about some coffee?" He smiles rubbing the lower part of her lip with his calloused thumb.

"I cannot comprehend what would be better."

It's 6' o'clock in the morning and as they stay connected to each other's bodies, the air is thin, as it prickles against the softness of their skin. For this moment Abbie understands that the earth does have some sense of magic. By just being this close to him, hearing his heart, feeling his breath against her face, that's how she finds her existence.

The sheets are crumpled beneath them as he bends down and kisses her forehead. "You truly are beautiful." Abbie nuzzles her face in his chest and smiles. He gets up and she too follows suit. She has messy hair, smudged eye-liner from the night before, and faded lines from where he touched her skin.

For once, in her entire life, she feels it…that feeling once long forgotten, she feels happiness.


	8. Chapter 8 Abbie's Birthday

_Love Breaks My Bones and I laugh-_

_Charles Bukowski_

Love was once described to Ichabod, as a young boy, heartbroken for the first time, that it would sometimes make a person weak. His father, scolding him, placed a calloused hand, a cold touch, on his son's shoulder and said,

"One day, my boy if you are not careful, it will change you."

His father had never been a orphic gentleman, but a man of ordinary standards. Yet, that is the one thing he remembers that rendered something inside the deep depths of his mind.

Ichabod cursed quite lowly to himself as he slips the tight, god-for-saken, rough skinny jeans onto his body. He yells at himself for doing so, however, he would do this for her. The pants, or the devil's trousers, fit quite snug against his muscular physique. He reaches for the azure cotton button up, that is hanging along the small chair, and grabs it hesitantly. He sighs lowly to himself,

"This is for her," he reassures himself.

He takes the soft fabric of garments and shields his slightly scarred body, hiding behind the softest fabric, fading into a pastel color in a kaleidoscopic world. "Blasted retched attire, I shall be done with you shortly." He snorts as he takes one short glimpse of himself in the mirror hanging on the wall.

His father truly was precise love does change you.

It is Abbie's birthday, and despite Ichabod's sensibility, he wants to show her that he can fit into her world. For three years they've fought, cried, and recently shared each other's affections. Last year he merely gave her a small token of his affection, a wrapped box with a book inside of it. Abbie loved books, in fact, sometimes he believes her mind is captivated by foreign lands, dangerous adventures, and words that seem to make their home in the corners of her brain. He believed her mind to be like a library, and sometimes she would get lost in the great expanse of her thoughts, words, and emotions. He likes that about her, her yearning for knowledge, her thirst for the unknown.

This year would be different. He would give her himself, all of him, showing that he wants to indeed be with her. Sometimes, love does change people, for the better of course, and he would be willing to let some of his old life go. Katrina was a part of his old life, and as much as she helped him mold in his cocoon, he is now a beautiful butterfly using his outstretched wings for the first time. Abbie is the sky and he knows he must fly to her leaving his decaying old life behind him.

His life had previously been utter darkness, but Abbie, his beautiful treasure, is a crack that allows light to flutter into his darkened world. She is his nepenthe and with her the world doesn't seem so estranged. With her Ichabod feels like he's been a part of this world, this era, all his life.

Her bedroom is quite dark and he sees nothing but Eigengrau for quite some time. However, he catches her, lying on her stomach curls toppled like ripples of water spiraling onto her pillow. Her slight breathing is creating a beautiful harmony inside his ears. He comes closer and he swears she is circled in her own accumulation of light as if she is an angel, illuminated by an irenic glow. He sits on the edge of the bed and slowly caresses the side of her face and she stirs slightly underneath him. Her eyes slightly drift open, like an eruption of a volcano, beautiful and powerful in its own right.

"What time is it?" She soughs.

Her voice is raspy and thick from her peaceful slumber. As Ichabod catches her honey colored eyes upon him he cannot help but have his breath catch in the pit of his chest. She is quite the pulchritudinous young woman.

"It is time to arise my sweet, it is such a special day. We simply must not miss one second of it." Abbie sighs.

"What day is it exactly?" She says placing the pillow over her head desperately wanting to fall back to sleep. Ichabod leans in closer,

"why, don't play coy my treasure, it's the special day that you were drawn from your mother's meek womb—"

"Ugh, Crane, I don't need the mental images." She teases as she sits up rubbing her eyes, trying to remove the sleepiness away. As she removes her hands she finally notices him fully, no longer in his outdated fashion, but the clothes they had brought together years ago. Her lower lip drops in astonishment, "Ugh, Crane are you ill?" He looks at her with befuddlement as he feels the top of his forehead.

"That seems highly implausible. Does my appearance create the image that I am debilitated Miss Mills?"

"You're wearing real clothes, I mean, actual modern clothes." Ichabod looks down at the preposterously parsimonious restricting pants.

"Ay, yes, well I felt in a rather ludic mood today due to the lovely fact that only some years prior to this you, my dear one, graced this darkened world with your statuesque presence." Abbie without any thought throws herself around Ichabod, wrapping his rather large frame, against her rather small body.

"You did this for me?" He rubs the plane of her cheek bone with his delicate fingers.

"On the contrary my dearest Abbie I would do anything for you."

"Well, now that you mentioned it," she tries to be sphallolalia knowing the outcome of it already.

"Patience my sweet," Ichabod reprimands like a professor scolding a young pupil. He lifts her up from her arms, with little effort, and places her on the bedroom floor. He kisses her forehead,

"Now, you must get presentable for the occasion, we must celebrate."

"Do I have to?"

Abbie never truthfully enjoyed birthdays. No one had celebrated her as a child so she went through life believing that birthdays had no importance. That she had no importance to even celebrate herself. It is just another day, another breath, and another romanticized holiday to spend some money. However, the excitement radiating throughout Ichabod's unnaturally beautiful eyes makes her vorfreude. "Fine," she says grabbing a towel from her dresser. "Let me shower really quick and find something to—"

"Already done,"

"What?" Abbie looks at him incredulously.

"I have drawn you a bath already, it is your day of relaxation my love, you shall not lift one finger." Abbie raises a brow lost for words.

"Crane,"

"Now now," he says moving behind her thrusting her towards the bathroom. "I will hear none of it. Let me do this for you. I want to." With a loud sigh Abbie says,

"Fine, but don't make a habit out of it." She goes into the bathroom closing the door. Ichabod waits on her bed shaking his head,

"The women of this century I do not comprehend them."

* * *

"I cannot believe I let you talk me into this," Abbie sighs as he stares at Ichabod.

She must admit just having him in those extremely tight pants would have been a gift in its own right. Of course, he had to be extremely chivalrous and literally not let her lift one finger. He had done everything from fetch her coffee, to run her a bath (which was doused with rose petals) God only knows how he gathered those, to walking all the way to Dunkin Donuts and getting their favorite doughnut holes. She concedes she is being accismus, but, she is only doing it because this feeling of being taken care of is so unnatural to her. She had never had someone love her so much, she's never had the feeling of having someone want to take care of her for a change. It was nice she will admit that, but quite foreign and she doesn't know how else to handle it.

Now here they are in a secluded part of Sleep Hollow's forest. He's decorated the rustic environment with a small blanket on the ground, a picnic, which Abbie had never done in her entire life. He is so like some walking fictional character from a Jane Austen book. On the blanket is small plates, utensils and small finger sandwiches, two cups of coffee from Dunkin (her favorite) and little crème puffs. The small area is decorated with an abundance of candles and it seems to illuminate the graying forest with a magical essence.

"Abbie, my treasure," he says softly as he hands her the cup of coffee specifically made for her. "Isn't this quite the pulchritudinous experience?"

"English Crane," she smiles over her coffee, blowing it gently so it won't burn her tongue.

"Being here with you gives me the highest hopes of our future. You deserved to be treated with the highest regards, and, deluged with the greatest affections." She shrugs,

"A cookie would have done the trick." She beleaguers.

Crane sighs crossing his arms,

"Do you not enjoy any of the time we've spent together today? Has this not been a successful outing?" Abbie sets the cup down and places her hand on his knee.

"No, crane, it's all been lovely. That's just it…you shouldn't have gone through all this trouble for me." He shakes his head, the sun beaming down on him. Curse that sunshine highlighting all his beautiful features. Abbie wants to plant kisses on each spot the sun hits.

"It truthfully wasn't trouble at all, Miss Jenny helped as well, and she seemed quite delighted about the entire idea. In fact, I quote from her: 'you going to get some tonight Crane', what this some is, I am not entirely sure." Abbie cannot help but chuckle leave it to Jenny to blurt out sexual innuendos and poor Ichabod to not understand even one.

"You want honest?" She asks crossing her arms, Ichabod nods,

"I would hope that you will always be utterly honest with me, others have not been so inclined in the past."

Abbie feels bad for his statement, she knows that Katrina had lied numerous times to Crane and it jeopardized their entire relationship. She didn't want any secrets between them, secrets brought more secrets, and lies brought deceit. She loved Crane and she would never want to push him away.

"Okay," she grabs the coffee and taps the rim of the plastic cup with her fingers, "here's your cue to run away." Ichabod raises his eye brow extremely high, God, stop it man, and it's making her want to kiss him more.

"Poppycock, there will be no running, I'm planted right here with you." She smiles and nods.

"Okay truth is, this all feels so weird, because no one has ever been this kind to be before. It's odd weird, and it makes me feel like you're too good to be true. That I'll wake up one morning you know, and you won't be there, that all of this was a dream. That I'll wake up alone, and back where I was, and it sucks Crane, really sucks because, I've grown so attached to you, and I don't know what I'd do if I lose you. I hate feeling that way, so hopeless, it's never happened to me before. I feel so small, and damn-it, it's no fun."

Crane is quite for a moment, and Abbie believes it's the first time he's been quiet in a very long time. He feels an overwhelming need to engulf her into his embrace. He comes closer to her, she's trying to be strong, but he knows better, he can see through her mask. She wants to cry, to rain down her sorrow, but he knows she will never do that. She'd rather hold it in and slowly befall a slow painful agony. He'd be damned if he let her do that to herself.

He removes the cup from her grasp setting it down. He glides both his hands to the side of her face starring at her. He looks so inhuman, so God-like, in the glow of the sunlight and candlelight.

"Understand this until my dying breath I will continuously be by your side. Previously, despite all the odds conspiring against us, even despite the unfeasible circumstances of time, I found you. I will always find you, you feel this," he says placing one of her hands along his heart. She feels it beating vibrating softly underneath her hands. She nods, "as long as this beats you will never be alone. I cannot make up lost time, believe me I would if I could, however, I can merely promise you splendor for your…our future." Abbie's lower lip trembles and he kisses it softly.

"Why do you have to be so perfect all the damn time?" She says through emotional chuckles. The kind of happiness right before the beautiful release of tears. He simply smiles,

"It's easy to be perfect around the individual who deserves perfection," Abbie embraces him, holding him tight like he's her freedom. He slowly glides his fingers in an up and down motion along her spine.

"I have one last gift for you," he susurrus.

"What is it?" She asks bending back.

Ichabod places his right hand behind her head leaning forward

"This." He says before disappearing into the plump ripeness of her lips around his. He kisses her differently this time, he's filled with fervor, a dark hunger coursing through his veins. Her lips are swollen from affection as he bends back slowly to whisper to her, both their breathing rushed, "sometimes, I'm quite petrified of my heart, of its constant hunger for you, the way that it stops and starts by my mere gaze upon your beautiful." Abbie leans in,

"Crane,"

"Hmm," he says as she glides her lips across his entwining her arms around his neck.

"Stop talking,"

"As you wish."

They kiss more their lips like a beautiful poem, dipped, curved, and filled with the sweetest sentiments. Time, for this moment, is their element and it yields to them as they press their tired bodies against each other, both finding stability in each other's embrace. Abbie begins to see how far she can push this endeavor, by unbuttoning the top button of Ichabod's shirt. He doesn't say anything, but responds by holding her tighter, closer, and more meaningful. She doesn't know whether to scream, jump for happiness, or question his judgment. The only reasonable thing to do is continue, so that is what she does, she hurriedly rips each button of that shirt, promising to buy him a new one, throwing it to the ground.

He glides his fingers deliciously slow up her shirt and its crazy how something so subtle can cause her such pleasure. No one, she means LITERALLY NO ONE has ever had this affect on her before. It's beautiful and dangerous and she feels like she's going crazy. He pushes her backward, very gently, and places his rather long tree branch of a body on top of her. He runs his hand up her stomach towards her chest and back down tugging slowly at the hem of her white dress shirt. She gets his meaning way too well, and without hesitation sits up, both their eyes glued together, and throws her shirt onto the ground close to his. He dives back in and they kiss more, however, he parts momentarily starring down at her lovingly. Abbie becomes worried,

"Don't stop please," she whispers.

"I only mean to ask you if this is surely what you want."

"Yes," she fades onto his lips, "yes, yes, yes," her words dissolve into the touching of both their tongues as they share each other's breaths.

Ichabod kisses the soft thumping motion alongside her neck as she shovels her fingers through his glorious silken hair. He begins his journey of her body, kissing her color bones, then taking a small delay at her chest, spiraling down to her stomach and the dip of her belly button. He travels upwards kissing her more and she, with rushed hands, goes towards his jean's button trying to unbutton his pants. He takes her hands and places them below her,

"Come now, patience my love,"

"But—"

"Sense I've altered my rules, I suggest we at least do this properly,"

"It is MY birthday," she pouts.

"And I assure you that you will thoroughly enjoy every minute of this." She smirks,

"Someone sounds quite confident."

"Let me show you Abbie, please, let me at least have this,"

she looks at him and sees all the changes he's made for her. The clothing, the lifestyle, she could at least let him take the lead in this situation. Besides, there shouldn't be anything wrong with a little pampering from him once in awhile. She nods,

"Okay, I'm yours,"

"I'm glad you're complying," he says kissing her once more.

The process is delayed, making kissing seem more intimate than it ever has. Abbie has never kissed someone for quite the amount of time that Ichabod kisses her, as if they truly are breathing. He touches her softly, as if he's a soft blanket shielding her from the dangers of this world. They work together, in unison, him teaching her the art of patience, of true love-making. She teaches him how to unlatch her bra so that he may fully soak up her beauty. He kissing every inch of her, but not just kissing, soaks her in, as if he were cracks in pavement and she drops of rain leaking through.

He removes her jeans, quite easily as if he's practiced, thought about it from time to time. He kisses her legs, her thighs, everywhere because she can tell he finds her flawless. He constantly reminds her how beautiful she is and of course she's been told that before, especially when making love, but something is quite different when he says it. He makes her believe that it's especially true.

He removes his pants as well, and both of them are as naked, as exposed, as the day that they were born. He stares down at her rubbing her face, she running her hands through his hair, adoring every part of him. "I do love you," he tells her and she nods her head smiling.

"I know, I've known myself for quite some time, and I love you too."

After that he fills her up with himself, both of them truly combining, because the world knew now. The ripples of their spoken love fill the air as they heave and gasp and moan. Their bodies locking together, they discover new feelings and sensations. The only thing that can disperse from their rasping moans is each other's names

"Abbie…."

"Ichabod…."

As if only their names can reassure them that this is in fact real. They both let go, soaring like spiraling eagle's wings. He collapses on top of her and she releases her digging nails from the core of his back. Their breathing rushed, they try to soak up more air. He kisses her forehead and she smiles.

"Happy birthday my love," finally escapes his trembling lips. She kisses his lips, those beautiful lips, her lips.

"Crane,"

"hmm," He murmurs,

"I believe you just got some."

**Hahahah Okay as bad as that ending was I had to! I feel like the first time Ichabbie makes love it'll end with her saying something snarky or witty like that! I apologize if someone finds this stupid or cray cray! Anywho, let me explain. This was quite difficult to write because I for one have never written like smut type of writing. This probably isn't even considered smut, but, to me it's very sexualized. On my defense, I feel as if Ichabod would be very gentlemanly when he makes to Abbie. I don't see him being to animalistic, well, at least not their first time. I wanted this to be beautiful, because, love especially sharing it with someone special is quite beautiful, like music. Therefore, I tried to make it sexy but I think it's more fruity and flowery than anything.**

**I still hope you all like it :D I really tried hard to capture ichabbie's relationship and each distinct character. The comments from yesterday made me so extremely happy that I HAD to write this one.**

**You all inspire me, so, please comment! When I read comments, I take it as people truly enjoying it, and that makes me want to continue. I love every comment I read and I try to take all of them into consideration.**

**Also, if you have suggestions Please please please message me or leave them here.**

**Thank you, try and stay warm, hopefully this story warms you up a bit;p**


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